Fairytales Might Not Last Forever
by Tak the Wonder
Summary: Not all love stories turn out perfect in the end. Princes can be duechebags too. But that's life. Love may not last forever but can be unforgettable while it lasts. Enjoy! R&R!
1. Lovesick Puppies

**Author's Note: There aren't many Mia's parent's stories about how they met (that I myself have seen) so I decided to write one. I've always thought that the whole thing where her dad chokes on ice when he sees her mom getting ready for her date with Mr. G was kinda cute. I also loved the idea of working on their romance, because it's untapped territory. I know some people might think it's gross and say: Ew it's her parents! But hey, you've always wondered right? So I've started my story with Helen going through "memories" in the back of her bedroom closet. And don't worry this is in no way a lemon, I'm not a sicko. It's a sweet slightly romantic story with a lot of family and humorous character. **

**Author's Comment: I love PD TONS! This story is set in the middle of the books, I haven't decided when; I don't actually care really. Some of the info in the flashback parts of the story might not be perfect, because I don't actually know what college Mia's parents met at. If I'm wrong and you do know please tell me via comment (I would love to know!). Rated T, because I'm weird… but it does contains a tiny bit of language so don't be offended… just saying. I'm just weird like that. Enjoy the story and feel free to comment about anything…. And I mean anything. HA HA… no really. Anyway forgive my strangeness and enjoy my story!"**

**Disclaimer: Sadly I don't have the rights to PD. Wish I did, but they belong to the ever-amazing Meg Cabot.**

**Chapter 1: Lovesick Puppies **

I stood for a moment gawking at it all.

The fact that Mia had asked me to go through this junk was one thing, she never did. I'm the messy one (Strangely, daughters especially teenage ones are supposed to be messy. Mines not, Thank God. Or we'd never get the rent paid.) But along with the fact that Frank's moving more of his junk into the apartment … well I guess I had to get rid of some of my junk. I shouldn't say junk; they're "memories" that just happen to be messily pushed to the back of my closet. Boxes labeled according to when and why they are stuff away in the back of my closet. I had no idea I had so much junk, I mean "memories" tucked away back there. _Ha ha… "memories", it's mostly junk! _

_Better get started. _I thought staring into the abyss that was my closet, and I picked up the first box. Home videos, it was labeled in my mom's crappy scrawl. That box would go; I knew it was filled with home videos of me eating broccoli and going down slides and other stuff my mother obsessed over. I'm not going to let my husband see those, he might get a little scared that his newfound in-laws documented their daughters every move as a baby. The next few boxes I sifted through were Mia's ballet costume and a small photo album I'd never finished. I thought at first maybe I'd keep those away for Mia, but rethought it because of the fact that those ballet classes she had gone to traumatized her for life. I looked back at the black hole in front of me; I had shed only a small bit of refuse from the pile. As I set down an old Snoopy alarm clock wedged in between some albums a large box toppled onto the closet floor, making a thump as it landed by my feet. _College Junk _was scribbled across, lazily on the side in faded Sharpie. I smiled, and scooped it up and set it on my bed. Inside I found a thick sketchbook, a college jacket, a pile of photos, and an old algebra book. I was setting the jacket on the bed when Mia called me from the kitchen.

"Hey Mom where's my shoes that Grandmère gave me for my birthday. Dad told me to where them to the benefit this afternoon to make her happy." She echoed, as she came in. "How should I know? Oh did you remember you have to come with me to Rocky's doctor's appointment tomorrow so tell your grandma you can't go to princess lessons." I bellowed through the hallway. (Sadly I actually didn't know where they were. Remember I'm not the keep-track-of-everyone's-junk-kind-of-person…) "Rocky's crying again." Mia added as she grabbed the shoebox from the kitchen table, and put on her shoes. I grumbled, and set my box on the kitchen counter. After soothing Rocky, I heard Mia calling again from the kitchen. "Mom, what's this?" She remarked, pointing to the box on the counter.

I chuckled, "College Junk." Mia's face strangely lit up, and she seized the box and began to go through it. "Your not gonna find anything interesting, Mia. The box says _junk_ for a reason." But Mia didn't listen and continued her search. Then she frowned, "I thought there would be some pictures of you and Dad… but I guess there aren't." I frowned "Girl, you know there probably in some really old album back at my parent's. I wouldn't have that stuff lying around. And I don't think your dad had any albums of us back in the royal castle in Genovia. He's not that kind of sentimental person." I chuckled. "Sure he does," Mia, retorted "There's a picture of you in his sock drawer. I caught one of his one-week girlfriends asking him about it one summer in Genovia a couple years back."

I snorted at the idea; Philippe keeps a picture of me in his sock drawer? _What is he a lovesick highschooler? _

Suddenly I heard a honk outside. "Guess that's my ride." Mia said, kissing me on the cheek and walking to the door. As I watched her leave, I thought about what she had said. _It's kinda cute really_, I thought as I picked through the rest of the box on the counter. It was filled with sketches I had down of the campus and of friends that I'd made over the years. _Most of these are pretty good too, _I thought as I reminisced. As I flipped through the sketchbook, I noticed a photo peeking its head out of the side of the pages. I flipped to the page, and gaped. There in my sketchbook was a sketch or should I say sketches of Philippe. There were pictures too, which had been busily jammed into the back of the book, and even a couple hiding in the cardboard bindings and side flaps.

The book was strangely dusty for being only about 15 or 16 years old (as old as Mia actually, well of course) and the whole thing reeked of, well "memories". I scoured through the pictures and sketches, and there were tons. I straightened when I picked up the first one: a sketch of a young man walking away down a sidewalk and looking over his shoulder with a smug look on his face. I had done that the day I met him. Then there was the kind of picture Mia had been looking for, a photo of us at a party kissing. _That's priceless_, I chuckled. I looked through more of them, sketches of him sitting around doing homework, another standing on a balcony. "_I was such a lovesick puppy!_" I muttered remarking at the sketch.

I looked up; someone one was coming up the stairs. All of the sudden my peace-and-quiet was interrupted, when not only Mia but also Philippe, and Mia's bodyguard came rushing into the house. "Forgot my stockings! We got half way there and I realized that if I showed up without them, Grandmère would practically kill me…" She called running busily down the hallway to her room. "Dropped this Helen." Philippe pointed out, and picked up a sketch that had fallen on the kitchen floor in my scouring of the _College Junk_ box. He chuckled as he opened it and handed it to me. "Who's this?" He retorted as I glared at the sketch. It was a sketch of him sitting under a tree, sitting next to a smiling yet sleepy looking girl with long curly brunette hair who was leaning lovingly on his shoulder.

"You and Me." I remarked letting the three words slip out like it was not meant to be said. "Oh…wow." Philippe replied, in a shocked manner. I could feel his eyes softly boring into my head as I scooped up my box. I picked up the box and carried it back to my room for safekeeping, but I stupidly left a pile of pictures on the counter. And sure enough as I stowed the box beside my bed, Mia called from the kitchen again. "You told me you had no pictures! There are tons!" Chortled Mia, in her giggly delight. Sure enough when I came back I was joined by an excited, chirping Mia and a not-so-chirpy Philippe. He gave me a soft almost mournful look, which I was surprised to see. She was gawking at the photos, remarking and teasing Philippe. "Let's go Amelia, we'll be late."

Mia gave him a look, " Come on Dad…" She said rifling through the photos. "Wow. Look at this one Dad. And you said PDA was a bad idea." Mia teased handing me a photo. I almost laughed myself; it was a photo of us leaning full on against a brick wall, well making out. Philippe looked pretty hot in that picture, I must say. _Well of coarse, 'cause he had hair then!_ I don't know who took the picture, but they would pay because the embarrassment Philippe was causing me was pure torture. "Well Mia, we were college kids just messing around, you and Michael in a public place is quite different. You're in high school, and also the media might take it as an advantage as a media opportunity. You're a princess with responsibilities. Remember what happened with that Josh Richter fellow?"

"You're _a prince_, Dad. Wouldn't that be the same thing?" Mia retorted, raising an eyebrow at her father. I laughed, _Yeah try and make it right Philippe, go ahead and try_. Philippe stood there for a minute, trying to think of a smart way to make it right. I laughed, sighed and scooped up the box. When I came back Rocky was crying again, so being such a baby-licker that she is (What! Her friend Lilly is right she is way too protective of that kid) ran off to make him stop. "Why'd you have that stuff lying around, Helen?" Philippe said, with a smug look on his face like he was trying to embarrass me. I gave him a hostile glance, "Look I was going through some junk and the box fell out of the closet. Nosey Mia, wanted some pictures of us together anyway. It's kind of cute if you think about it-"

"Not to me." He interrupted. "It's weird that she wanted to see pictures. Those years were crazy, -"

"Philippe, if you think about if those years hadn't happened she wouldn't be here."

"She kind of did make the bad situation a good one…" He remarked.

"Bad situation?" I stared at him. _He thinks us being in love was a bad idea. Isn't the opposite how people should feel? But then why does he keep a picture of me in his sock drawer? Men… sigh. _

Philippe went silent, _he too could see where this all was going and decided to shut up_.

"He _finally_ quieted down after at these three renditions of "Belle" from Beauty and the Beast-"Mia said, and then stopped realizing something was wrong. She looked us both up and down, standing hostilely across the sides of the kitchen counter. "What's going on?" Mia said concerned. I turned away and walked out, _I didn't want to start anything_. "Let's go Mia." I heard Philippe mutter as I left the room. After a second kiss goodbye, Mia sprinted out of the house and down the stairs into the limo with Lars in tow. Philippe lazily muttered to himself as he walked out the door.

"_Philippe is an idiot, Philippe is an idiot, Philippe is an idiot."_ I thought as went through the rest of the boxes.

_**16 years Earlier:**_

"_Philippe is an idiot, Philippe is an idiot, Philippe is an idiot…" _I thought as he walked away down the sidewalk, smiling at me smugly over his shoulder.

What kind of an idiot steals a girl's math book, and then tries to be all nice and return it, in turn embarrassing her in front of her friends? _A man, that's who. _

"He didn't steal it Helen. Come on he wouldn't do that! Like he said _you left it on your desk and he returned it_." Remarked my friend Nina, who sat sketching next to me under the trees.

"I think he's sweet on you." Smiled Gabrielle, who really for a smart girl really has no clue when it comes to men in my opinion.

**Here's what Happened:**

This guy comes waltzing down the sidewalk with this smug look on his face, and comes right up to me and says: "Are you Helen?"

And all I surprised, I say: "Yeah, who's asking?"

"Hi, uh…you left this on your desk. Thought you might want it back."

"Thanks." I said, unsure of what to say. "How did you find out where I was?"

"Oh, I looked at the registration. And asked around, and asked the math professor. And talked to the Head of Security and some other people took me awhile but at least I found you. Most of them said you had a club that met right here at the same time like four times a week."

_Yeah, Women against Male Dominance Club, _I thought silently to myself.

"Yeah." I retort. _This guy definitely stole it; I mean who would ask like half the people in the school who I was, just so he could give me a stupid math book? _I thought as we stood in silence.

"Philippe…Renaldo." He said holding out his hand all formal-like. I paused for a second, and then shook it realizing he wanted to shake my hand.

"Helen Thermopolis." I said, still surprised that he was the "shaking hands" type of guy.

"So," He said trying to keep our hopeless conversation, from ending. "See you in math class?"

"Math class." I said slightly smiling, _what? He's kinda sweet. In a nerdy and awkward way. Stop smiling you Helen! _

He stood there for a second smiling smugly for no apparent reason. Then a second later he was waltzing down the sidewalk again, watching me over his shoulder.

"That guy _was_ kinda cute, you've got to admit Helen. And he did put a lot of work into finding out who you were and where you were so he could return that math book." Nina said, as I explained how pointless it was for him to return the book without reason.

"Of course there was a reason, Helen!" Melody said as she walked up and balanced herself against our token tree spot. "He likes you that's all. What's his name?"

"Philippe Renaldo." I muttered not looking up from my work on the sketchbook in my hand.

"Oooo. Sounds fancy. Maybe he's one of those fancy types." Remarked Gabrielle, dazing into one of her weird little reveries.

"No Gabby-" I barked.

"Hey I got an idea girls!" Nina said, standing up abruptly and waving her arms in the air.

"What!" We all said in unison. Nina was always making announcements.

"This better not be one of your bizarre ideas that never works, Nina. Last time we poured prune juice all over that guys leather seats, we almost got arrested for car robbery, So-" I added trying to change the subject. (I was really trying to prevent Nina from submitting one of her heinous ideas to the group. Most of them involve people or cars being harmed, or people getting totally embarrassed)

"Not that Thermopolis! Invite Math-Book-Boy to your birthday this Saturday! It'll be great!"

My eyes widened, and I turned bright crimson red. "NO WAY!" I yelled, but the look on everyone else's face told me otherwise. _They were getting their way. Math-Book_-… I mean Philippe was going to my birthday party. _Great! Just great…_ I thought as I picked up my sketchbooks and bag, "I'm going to the coffee shop… So don't bother me! And no more of this stuff about Philippe Renaldo." Gabrielle made a face, "Come on Helen. Just one fun night, please! I promise we just want to see if he really likes you or not. Besides if you don't want him, I'll have him." I recoiled, "No Gabbs-"

"Then it's settled Philippe is coming to your party. It'll be great!" Melody said, glaring at me in her normal annoyed fashion. _They must enjoy my pain because I'm not inviting Philippe to my birthday party_. _But Oh yes, my friends have to get their way. They always do! Ahhhh! _

I rubbed the charcoal from my sketching, onto my overalls, "We, still going to Wok's China Palace for my birthday?" I said trying to change the subject. "Sure… yeah table for 5 just like last year Baby." Melody chimed, which made me suspicious. She _was_ up to something, and I knew it. I narrowed my eyed suspicious. "Well there may be some main adjustments, girl." Added Nina, noticing my uncertainties. "_Adjustments_." I questioned, still glaring at them. "Yeah you know, maybe almond cake instead of chocolate-walnut." Gabby said, trying to avoid my gaze.

I snorted, still unimpressed.

I scooped up the rest of my belongings and headed away. Nina and Gabs always did this "evil planning thing", but for some reason it always turned to the optimistic side of things… _well most of the time_. But as I proceeded down the sidewalk with a spirited step, it hit me. _Maybe he did like me._

And as I passed through the open doors of the campus coffee house, I bumped right into none other than Philippe Renaldo.

_I had been right all along, about the sabotage birthday thing. They sabotaged my birthday party! No longer is it an all-girl dinner at __Wok's China Palace, but a bonfire… a bonfire with a special guest. He's sitting there against the tree with another perfectly smug look on his face. First of all who invited him? I suspect Gabby, but then again Nina does look a little suspicious herself. _

But the thing was a part of me was happy they invited him. A really big part.

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

**COMMENTS APPRICIATED, AND WANTED. Thanks!**


	2. Questions About Love

**Chapter 2: ****"Helen, voyez-vous, ce soir belle."**

**A/n: For your information, for those who do not speak French, ****"Helen, voyez-vous, ce soir belle." Means, "Helen you look, beautiful tonight." in French. Cute right? Find out why it's called that by reading my next chapter! Enjoy, and comment! Also I'd like to add that when I was writing my first and second chapters I realized that I spelled Mia's dad's name wrong. It's Phillipe not Philippe like I thought it was. So I apologize, and I will be sure to spell it write in the rest of the chapters. SORRY! DON'T BE PISSED AT ME! In this chapter I do have them speak a bit of French so free to use Google Translate. (I speak a bit of French myself.. so I decided to use it in this chapter to add something different)**

Chapter 2: Questions about Love

_Ok. I maybe sitting next to him, but I'm not enjoying it. _

So there he was sitting there next to me under the trees with my friends. You can say he is being really sweet about this whole thing. I mean he does barely know me, and he got this abrupt invitation from my friends just yesterday. He's being cute about though… Which is nice because I thought this whole thing would be really awkward. Guess what the first thing he said to me when I sat down next to him against the tree?

"Helen, voyez-vous, ce soir belle."

I stared at him for a second, and then he chuckled. "It means… Helen you look, beautiful tonight, in French." I just smiled at him that_ was really sweet!_ "Thanks." I managed; still a little embarrassed he called me _beautiful_.

"You speak French?" I said puzzled at why an American kid would learn French.

"Yes. Well you see my mother wanted to make sure I knew French, German, and Italian well. I learned them kind of as childhood hobbies you could say. Most of the time French is all my mother speaks, which annoys me." He said kind of looking at the ground in the middle of his sentence, as if he was hiding something. _What was he trying to hide from me? _

"What kind of an American, wants her son to speak French, German and Italian?" I said letting me protruding thoughts come to speech.

He smiled at me, "My mother is quite different then most. Besides I'm not at all American."

I gazed at him suspiciously, "Then why-"

"I'm here in this country for _a bit of a learning experience_, as my mother would say." He interrupted, slightly giving me another smug smile.

"Well then where are you from?" I questioned, still wanting to know the absolute truth.

"Genovia." He said, looking back down at his hands.

"'Never heard of it." I said snorting.

"Not allot of people have." He added, trying to make me understand.

"Well then, maybe I'm not the only one."

That was kind of the way the whole night went, basically talking for hours and hours. The cake my friends had baked was cold and forgotten, and soon the bonfire went to a small flickering flame.

"You know I really did mean it when I said that you looked beautiful tonight." He said, blushing.

"You better have." I teased jokingly. He laughed too, and his eyes twinkled a little.

The night went on in a blur of firelight and conversation, but I actually don't remember ever leaving our spot under the trees.

_Maybe that was because we never actually got up from under the trees. And fell asleep right there, in each other's arms. _

_It could have possibly been the best birthday I'd had in a long time._

I woke up to a start that morning.

First of all I wasn't in my bed, or any bed for that matter. Second the early morning light wasn't streaming through my window like always, but instead through the branches of a tree. Third strangely I was surprisingly warm. I looked over next to me, and there sleeping soundly beside me was Philippe Renaldo, with his arms around me keeping me warm. I couldn't help but smile, _he was an adorable sight sleeping beside me_. But then I realized something; _my friends had set us up! _While this was accruing to me, a sleeping Philippe grumbled awake.

"Wha? Wait a second!" He said looking around, and slurring his words like someone who really wasn't a morning person.

"They set us up." I retorted, sitting up and leaning my head against the oak tree beside us. I cupped my face in my hands, _THEY SET US UP!_

"Wait what? Ahh!" He said when he realized who was next to him. "We… you. me … last night… set up…aaaAH!" He said in a strange mumbling fashion. I just stared at him. He got up, and after saying something that sounded like swear words in French, he turned back to me. "I'm sorry." He said, finally in a clear serious voice. Then he stood up and waltzed back down the sidewalk, _again_.

Normally when I'm experiencing a strong emotion I express it by painting. And painting, and painting. The strong emotion of the day is anger, towards none other than Philippe Renaldo. What kind of an idiot runs down the sidewalk after falling asleep under a tree beside her, after saying nothing other than I'm sorry? _A man that's who._

Normally a guy I knew would laugh about it for a while, make some jokes, offer to buy her breakfast _and then go waltzing down the sidewalk._

"You are using quite a lot of expressionism and dark colors in this painting, Ms. Thermopolis." Remarked Mrs. Grandson my art professor, a round woman with thick glasses and long curly black hair. "Well I'm feeling expressive today." I said frankly as I messily painted my canvas. "You seem as if your painting is expressing allot of annoyance and anger." _Well, duh…what'd you think, I was painting about yellow daisies?_

"That's true." I said candidly, not looking up from the other side of my canvas at my professor.

She nodded and went on inspecting the other student's work.

"Well that's it for today class. And remember we'll be working on Renaissance realism tomorrow." Said Professor Grandson, as she straighten her papers on her desk. I was the last to leave, as I put my things into my bag and began to head out the door; someone waiting for me to leave stopped me, leaning against the wall out side my Art class. _He_ was leaning against the wall as I came out.

"Helen, wait." Philippe said, attempting to follow me as I walked away. I turned but then, continued toward my next class. Sadly he was persistent. "Helen wait, I wanted to talk to you…" His voice trailed off as he realized I was still walking briskly away. He walked swiftly until he was walking beside me again. "Helen, I'm sorry about the other day…listen to me." I stopped, and stared at him for a moment. "Then why did you run away, at least tell me that!" He stopped short.

"That's what I thought." I retorted and keep up my pace again. Again he persistently followed me some more. "Helen." He said as he caught up with me again. "You know what! I mean why should you even want to talk to me in the first place, you need to get to class too." He raised an eyebrow, "We have the same class next, remember? Math." _Crap. _I stopped walking. "Look say whatever you wanted to say. And get over with it." I said frankly, glaring at him.

"I wanted to say, I was sorry. About the other day, and running away like I did. I was scared."

"Thank you… for saying that. I was kind of scared too." I remarked. He smiled a little, "You know I never actually got to give you a birthday present." Philippe replied, looking down at his feet as if he was nervous.

"You don't have to get anything for me, Philippe really." I said, smiling at the generous thought.

"No, no I do." He beamed back at me. "You know, the other night. I actually got the best sleep I've had in a long time." Philippe chortled in his smug little way. "You got a better night's sleep, under a tree when it was freezing then you would in your dorm?" I laughed.

His gazed softened, "No sleeping beside you, made it the best night sleep of my life."

"When a guy tells you he loves you, how can you tell he means it?" Mia asked sitting beside me on the couch as we watched a romantic Lifetime chick-flick. Frank had taken Rocky with him to his parent's house for the night for dinner. I'd been too tired to go, so Mia and I had decided to make it a "Ladies Night", watching movies and eating double-fudge ice cream. I muted the movie, and glanced over at my daughter. "Mia, why would you want to know that?" _Why would my 15-year-old want to know that?_

"'Cause Michael told me he loved me last night over the phone." Mia said, leaking a smile she had been holding back. I grinned and hugged her, "Aww, sweetheart. Well you need to think about this, how did he say it?" I asked, which made Mia's face light up again. "Like he was nervous about it and then when he said it he was all romantic and cute. And then he said Good Night."

"Well then he must mean it, Baby." I said smiling back at my daughter who was still ever beaming. Then another question came to mind, "Well Mia do you love him back is the real question. Do you?" Mia paused for a swift moment, and then nodded her head, which she punctuated with a glowing smile. "Oh, Mom. I do love him, with all my heart." I smiled, and went to unmute the TV. But another question stopped me. "Mom, did Dad ever tell you he loved you?" My face shadowed for a moment, and I sat back down again. "Mia I loved your father very much." Mia stopped, still unsatisfied with my answer. "But did he tell you he loved you?"

"He did. But it came with a price." Mia stared back, "What?" I straightened in my side of the old couch. "We'd been dating for a few months by then… I guess he had to break the news to his mother about _us_." I said in a tired voice. That's when I found out about the whole royalty thing. It was about the same time he asked me if I'd ever want to get married. I was a stupid young thing, and I told him I would if it was with him. _Well that was a bad idea._"

"That's when the wrath of _your Grandmother_ came upon us…" I murmured, and Mia's face became a bit weary but still in every bit curious.

"What happened?" She said looking at her feet with a sigh. I knew she had gotten her fair share of grief from her Grandmére.

I leaned against the wall with my cheek against his, in the pure bliss of young love. That was when he asked me the forbidden question:

"Helen would you ever, want to get married?" Philippe asked, as he squeezed me tight against the wall with his shear strength. I blushed in my own little way and smiled. "Why do you ask?" He gave out a little chuckle, "Well because I love you, and if anytime down the road-"

"I would if I was marrying you, Philippe." I interrupted, stopping him and making him grin back at me once more. His gaze softened again, and he "movie style" kissed me, not even caring that we were in the middle of a crowded courtyard with people walking by. He never seemed to care though, and he would always say: "I don't care if they see. It wards off unwanted visitors and guys who might try an' flirt with you."

But suddenly we were alarmed by the click of a camera.

"Just documenting this for future study." Teased Nina, who was holding up a camera and snapping pics of us. My eyes narrowed, "Nina!" I shrieked, as I ran out of Philippe's grasp and chased Nina down the sidewalk. But sadly she was a track star, which made it harder to catch her. But as she passed Philippe he reached out an arm and gripped her shoulder. "Gotcha!" He teased, letting me snatch the picture from the camera when the color washed through.

_I've kept that picture to this day._

It happened while Philippe was visiting my dorm on afternoon when we had no classes. Philippe got a call and had to leave for a moment. But amazingly I could hear his voice echoing through the hallway. I peeked the door open and listened in on the conversation, _Philippe had been acting weird since he had asked me if I'd ever want to get married_. That night he'd called his mother in Genovia, and they'd been talking for hours. _Mostly yelling_ from what I could hear from his bedroom in his apartment that morning.

"Mother I told you. I love her." He said trying to keep a calm voice. This must have made the voice on the other line angry, because soon I could hear a loud fuming buzzing coming from his phone. "I don't care about the values and responsibilities of a consort, Mother. I'm not putting her through that. You might have gone through it, but I won't make her."

_A consort, what in the hell? _

"No Mother, please don't," Which provoked more loud buzzing from the other end. Then he started to speak French, which made it hard to eavesdrop. "Je vous défends de venir ici mère .." More loud buzzing. "J'ai peut-être le prince de Genovia. Mais cela ne signifie pas que le gouvernement choisit qui je me marie. Je vais lui demander de me marier et c'est tout .."

I may not know much about speaking French, but I thought I heard him say, "Prince of Genovia" which made me freak out. I clasped my self behind my pillows and waited until he came back in. When he did he looked like a man who had just found out some one close to him had died. But despite this he came back over to sit next to me and kissed me. Then I knew something must be wrong when, he then put his arm around me and held me tight like he was scared. "Helen you know I love you right?"

"Yes." I said, slowly nodding my head. He pressed his now cold cheek against mine, " Helen my mother's coming."

"Is that a bad thing?.." I asked not knowing what to say.

"Probably…Most of the time it is. My mother's quite strange and she takes things really seriously." He said looking into my eyes, which meant he really was terrified. And I thought _I had problems with my parents._

The next day a phone call came to Philippe's apartment after which he called me, and asked me to come to his apartment. He had also said to dress nicely. Which made me a little nervous because he never really asked me too. But despite this I arrived soon enough, wearing what I thought was really my nicest clothes: a red long sleeve sweater and a beaded and printed skirt I'd gotten for my last birthday from Melody.

"Helen you look perfect." He muttered, almost surprised at my appearance. I smirked, "You told me to dress nicely." He smiled but then it faded. My mother just flew in from Genovia." "Where is she?" I asked still concerned. "The Plaza Hotel." He remarked, taking my hand and letting me into the apartment.

My eyes widened, _I knew Philippe's family in Genovia had some money but not that much!_

"As my mother would say: She likes the _finer_ things in life." He added giving me another loving glance. Then I realized he was wearing a suit! I'd seen him wear one once when he took me out to dinner at a really fancy restaurant, but never for something like this. _He looked pretty great though._

"Where are we meeting her?" I asked, still marveled that he was wearing a suit, _to meet with his mother!_

"Here actually. I didn't want to make a big scene at the Plaza or something-" He added and the stopped.

"_What_?" I questioned, _I hated it when he kept things from me_.

"Nothing.." He whispered, trailing off as he went to the kitchen. He came back with a bottle of Cognac. "Since when do you drink Cognac?" I inquired. "I don't but my mother does. Religiously." He said pouring a glass and keeping it handy beside him. He so distressed he even took a swig. "Helen, you need to know that my mother takes things extremely seriously." He said after he'd finished. "Yeah you told me that last night."

He took another sip, "Helen you know that I love you right. And anything that might happen today won't change that." I looked into his eyes again, "Philippe you know I love you! Why do you keep asking?"

He smiled and sighed, "Maybe I just like to hear you say it." Philippe said, giving me another long sweet kiss.

Then there was a long rap on the door.

"Philippe… If you don't open this door I'll send Dominic on after you!" Shrieked a loud raspy, and annoyed voice on the other end of Philippe's front door. Then like the speed of light my boyfriend sped out of his chair straight for the door. As soon as he opened it a purple mauve blob, burst through the door. "Artur Christoff Philippe Gerard Grimaldi Renaldo!" Philippe's mother shrieked as he gave her a seat to sit in. She was shortly followed by, get this a bodyguard.

_He never told me he had such a long name.. Wow. Or that his mother had a bodyguard, Weird._

She finally relaxed when he gave her a Sidecar, and she sat back into her chair and sighed. But when I sat down beside Philippe, and he gripped my hand, she shrieked again. "Ahh!"

"What is it?" He asked looking back from me to his mother and back again. "Oh mon Dieu non!" She shrieked this time, which I had a feeling meant she was really, really mad.

"This is the woman you have chosen as your consort, Philippe? The press will love this, eat it up! You're father is not pleased either, Boy.." She said, and continued to mutter for a few seconds.

"Consort!," I hollered, surprised at what she had said. "I am no-" I added, but was rudely interrupted by his mother.

"You must be his consort, Girl. The Prince of Genovia must choose a consort in order to marry, who must apply to his rules and duties. And he tells me he wants to marry you."

I glared for a moment. "No. but Philippe isn't a-"

"Oh mon Dieu non! Philippe you did not tell her? You idiot!" His mother shrieked again.

_Again with the rude interruptions! Someone needs to teach this woman some manners!_

I got up, _this is too much to handle_..

Philippe reached for my hand, to try and keep me beside him but I slipped out of his grasp. I turned back as I left the room giving him a sorrowed glance. I could feel his eyes bore lightly into my back as I walked away, into his bedroom. I sat on the bed mournfully, and a million thoughts went through my head:

_Why hadn't he told me he was a prince?_

_Did he really want to marry me?_

_Did I want to marry him, and go through life in someone's shadow?_

_Could I endure this for love?_

_Had this gone too far?_

_Did I want to marry him?_

_Was I too young to get married?_

_Why does his mother not approve of me?_

These thoughts and millions of others rattled through my brain, as the world spun around me endlessly.

**I hope you have enjoyed my story so far. I love comments and take all kinds of them, so comment and review if you wish! And please do, I enjoy compliments and criticism. **

**Cyber Hugs!**

**Nixie Rae**


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